


To the Men that I Love

by chquine



Category: Fate Grand Order
Genre: Character Tags To Be Added - Freeform, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:58:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chquine/pseuds/chquine
Summary: A passage dedicated to each of the male Servants that had, have and will always have my affections.





	1. Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything recognizable. This literary work is for entertainment purposes only. As the writer is speaking in the passages, I apologize in advance if anything written offends anyone; that was not my intention in posting this.
> 
> That said: enjoy reading! :)

You were not all that special, objectively speaking. In terms of power your were far outclassed and there were other substitutes with a better repertoire of skills in your Class. It was true that you were different: able to change into a Berserker once your Noble Phantasm had been activated, but your Berserker form was a source of discomfort for you.

  
I could not help but roll my eyes whenever you spoke of how you were a broken man and how you decided your abilities suffered because of it. It was a part of who you were, yes, but when you went on your tirades, you made it sound like that was all you had to offer. You sure knew how to make a poor excuse of a magus like myself feel worse.

  
Despite that, I was drawn to you. Maybe it was because I wanted to prove you wrong, or I wanted to make something out of myself. Maybe it was because you were quite dashing in your own way and I really liked seeing you smile. I wanted to get to the bottom of the pit that was you and take out all your little secrets.

  
Getting there was not as hard as I thought; for someone so bent on socially depriving himself in fear of hurting someone, you were easy to talk to. I figured you were lonely, now that you had become a Servant. I imagined your life to be full of tiring social functions; as an affluent doctor, you must have had a lot of people wanting to make your acquaintance. Your achievements in life were put on a pedestal for all to see so it made sense that you would be popular.

  
Was that why you felt the need to get rid of your darkness? If so, then I can understand why your plan backfired.

  
You were falling asleep when you laid everything in the span of four words and it felt like the first stretch of light after a long dream. How ironic that your head was on my lap, my hands were combing your (blonde? I'm still really unsure about that) hair and your eyelids fluttered rapidly. The words were hushed and quiet, like an old secret you were afraid of revealing.

  
I hate the light, you had said.

  
Edward Hyde was the personification of everything you wanted to remove from yourself, but in a twisted way, he was you at your most honest. You never told and even my instincts as your Master could only imply so much, but maybe you got tired of being watched and celebrated all the time. Maybe you felt the pressure of having to live up to their expectations but misinterpreted your own motives. Maybe deep down, you wanted your elixir to fail, because it would justify how you longed for the night.

  
We all had to wake from our dreams and that moment had been yours.

  
Morphing into Hyde had never been easy for you, but since then, it became easier for me to call you back. Your resolute vow of protecting me, both as an Assassin and as a Berserker, told me that I had succeeded. I had made something out of you. I had proven you wrong. You were not a broken man; you were just as whole as everyone else. I had made your smiles more meaningful and heartfelt.

  
Out of topic, but I honestly thought the omnipotent Grail was not all they made it out to be. We travelled across time and space and collected a good number of them and it seemed like they were used for every purpose except for what the creators intended it to do. Chaldea's method of using these Grails to exceed a Servant's given limits was a method I fully supported. I was a Master of Humanity's last bastion and it was but normal for me to use everything in my disposal to strengthen my Servants.

  
Your smile turned into a look of incredulity when I presented that empty cup to you. You never actually told me what your wish for the Grail was, but as your Master, I could hazard a guess. Maybe you had received your wish; maybe not, but the first thing you ever uttered after that brief exchange was a choked _Why._

  
I anticipated that question and had answers prepared: _because I wanted you to stop looking down at yourself, because I wanted to feel like I did something right, because I wanted to prove you wrong, because I wanted you to keep protecting me like you said_ and so on. In the end, all I managed was: "Because I'm a selfish Master."

  
Your face softened and the smile you usually wore nowadays made it's way back to your face. It was just an empty cup, but somehow I feel like I gave you a whole lot more than that.


	2. Hamesh Avanim

Carefree but cunning was how I would describe you to anyone asking. In a facility aiming to prevent the grim extinction of humanity, someone like you who seemed to have little to no care of the world was refreshing. You were a man after your own comforts and while most would disapprove of that kind of mindset, that kind of indulgence was something I could understand and support, albeit with a different perspective in mind.

  
You did not neglect your duties as a Servant, though; your wit was something that made you and your skills indispensible to me. I know I've relied on you more than you probably liked, but any complaint you voiced out was half-hearted and weightless: aimed more at your limited capabilites rather than at me. That part of you really made things easier, no matter the weight of Humanity's revival.

  
Whenever it was your turn to wake me up, you would let me sleep on for five (ten? Thirty?) more minutes. Your harp was always on the ready for when I felt stressed or sad. You had constant concern over my well being and was full of advice that, despite being self-indulgent, were actually useful; after all, I was the only one who could truly take care of myself.

  
It was like having an ancient King fuss over me like an uncle determined to spoil me rotten. In your case, I could feel you were trying to be a dad.

  
Was it because you were unable to pay attention to your children in life? Was fulfilling of your duties as a Heroic Spirit due to guilt? Solomon was the reason why these things were happening after all and whatever he was now, he was still your son.

  
You played many roles before: a shepherd, a champion, a soldier, a musician, a husband, a king, a father and a psalmist, but maybe being a father was one that you missed out the most on. I'm sure it was not easy for you to be all those things at once and as it was human nature to err, you must have slipped somewhere.

  
Maybe now, as a Servant, your most indulgent act was neither being cunning enough to fight minimally nor staying at the backline to watch the battle; maybe it was being a father.

  
It would explain why you looked surprised to know that I had decided to use a Grail for you. You never desired it because you knew it was an imitation of the real thing and said as much. How it would be wasted on you was also one of your concerns about it; I had stronger Servants on whom the Grail would not be wasted on.

  
I disagreed. "It's a gift," I told you, because children were allowed to give their parents gifts, right? By the way you shook your head and the look of profound joy on your face, I could tell that you had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> David was the first one I grailed. His Harp of Healing has saved me one too many times and I thought he definitely deserved it.


	3. Vasavi Shakti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Apologies. :)

The day you came to my Chaldea was the happiest day of my life. I heard that the Hero of Charity was someone who never denied a request, especially a desperate one. As a hero of renown, I was prepared to keep my distance, resigned to the fact that it was how you likely were.

  
For all that preparation I made, I still fell flat.

  
What I had expected was an arrogant Servant with no genuine interest in dealing with a mere mortal like me. What I got was a blunt and honest Lancer who would do anything I asked as long as it was not communicating with others. You felt even more distant than I had anticipated.

  
I had no problem in sending you out to fight, even against Saber class enemies; you lived up to your status as a warrior in life. Quick and efficient was how you did things and I had the guilty desire to see you fail, just to make you need me outside prana provision. Once battle was done, you became a lance in my disposal: a weapon rather than a Servant. Maybe you were at ease with that, but I was not.

  
With all my confidence and without a single shred of doubt and exaggeration, I could say that talking to you was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. Saving the world and Humanity only came second. Without you and my other Servants, saving the world would not even be on my to-do list.

  
Any and all attempts to talk to you while in Chaldea was ineffective: shot down by a frigidity that rivaled the snowy mountain we resided at. Appealing to your ego was obviously not an option; your slavish nature almost implied that you had no sense of self at all. So I turned to the epic you were portrayed in, which was a feat in itself as well. There were numerous translations and interpretations and I had no idea where I should begin.

  
So I began with you.

  
You were curious as to why I wanted to know about your past, but you obliged anyway. You mentioned your wife and how your relationship had been one of mutual respect instead of affection. You mentioned your brothers and how you wronged them as a blood-relative, but did right to the lord you served. You mentioned your mother and how she had asked you to return to your rightful place. You mentioned a nephew that you regretted fighting dishonorably. You talked about your death and how you served not because of what was objectively right, but because your lord had taken your hand and placed you there.

  
It did not explain why you obeyed my commands without complaint, but maybe it was because you knew more than anyone else how it felt to be denied recognition. You certainly went overboard, but maybe you wanted to emulate your lord, taking the hands of those who reached out to you and making it known that they had been heard. In all honesty, it was frustrating as your Master, but terribly endearing. To know that someone as mighty and strong as you answered my call was both a burden and an honor.

  
I wondered if Duryodhana ever felt as overwhelmed as I did when you turned to me so intently one day, crimson cape unfurling from your back and golden armor gleaming in the sun's fading light, and swore that you would never fail me. Probably not since he had been a king and warriors must have pledged themselves to him all the time.

  
I could never hope to be anything like the lord you had served in life, I told you. I was not as powerful or rich as he had been. I was just a magus and not a very good one too. But for as long as you fought beside me, I promised that you would be the first I called. More than a Master, I would be a friend to you.

The sun had already set, the sky was dark and the wind was cold. But before me was the sun, in all its radiance, found in the light of your eyes and the warmth of your smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well aware that there are MANY versions of the Mahabharata so I tried to be vague about it.
> 
> I'm also not quite sure about that tidbit concerning Karna's wife, Vrushali. When I looked her up all that was written was that she was similar to him in character. If anyone has read the Mahabharata and found that bit about her to be inaccurate, I would be happy to hear it. :3
> 
> Though I think I also read that she jumped into Karna's funeral pyre or something. I forgot.
> 
> Credits to Desolas for pointing out the thing about Karna's nephew. :) Thank you!! :)


	4. Märchen Meines Lebens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an F2P and a fan of Jojo, my love for this character is like the gacha's absolute lack of mercy. :3

In your story, the little mermaid turned into sea foam, fleeting, ephemeral; temporary. It was a bitter ending for those who read it, but maybe not for you or the mermaid in your tale. She was remembered forever, not by the prince she loved yet never felt anything but fascination for her, but by people moved to tears by her sacrifice and sympathized with her.

  
You wrote things as you knew they would happen. Happy endings were ideal and sometimes unrealistic. Love and sacrifice were seldom enough and sometimes, adversity does win. You wrote to impart that to your readers and you failed to get the ending you had wanted for yourself.

  
Or maybe you had resigned yourself long ago that happy endings were fleeting and temporary, like the foam the little mermaid turned into.

  
I admired how you still picked up your pen, swallowed your bitterness and wrote. Your words sharpened blades, fortified defenses and returned vigor to my Servants. Whenever I needed your help, you would be there, begrudging but accompanying all the same. You wrote, not for yourself, but for others, for the readers, the dreamers who needed to wake and work, the workers who needed to pause and dream and the Master whose ending is uncertain.

  
Once you had told me a story of a penned letter left on a wooden nightstand, alone and unread by its addressee. The letter was a box, full of loneliness hidden under the sparkling motes of love and affection. It was a means to an end, something to convey what could not be given directly, a token meant to be treasured until its pages turn yellow and its ink fades, a proof of folly and a sign of utter trust.

  
It had never been opened. Since the day it was written until the day it was disposed of, only the letter and its foolish creator knew what was inside, what hopes it had carried in its folds and creases and what could have beens aplenty.

  
The letter, the little mermaid, the match girl and numerous other characters you created and gave life to met ends that were not ideal. Their ends were not happy, but they were possible, likely; realistic. You wrote for them a stage full of grays, but for me you wanted something different in mind.

  
As an author you had full control of your manuscript; you could revise and improvise as you pleased. You told me once that you wished my quest for saving Humanity was a gargantuan project you had undertaken. The ending you would have written for me would be terribly idealistic. Something that would make your pride as a writer sick to its very depths. It would be inconsistent with your previous works and you were sure you would rather die than read it after it would be published.

  
But it would all be worth it, you said. Your pride might die, but your hope would no longer be concealed, sealed within the seams of an envelope. There would be no could have beens, just a simple reality that was bittersweet, but satisfying to your humanity.

  
"I'd rather be the little mermaid," I answered you. The ending might not be happy, but at least it was real.

  
You smiled, small and fleeting, like a flame dancing atop a matchstick. In the end that, you told me, was what made everything worth it.


	5. Excalibur Galatine

King Arthur dominated most of Chaldea's records on Servants previously summoned for the Grail wars. His versatility allowed him to be summoned in almost all classes. Most of the time I had to double check cause most pronouns pertaining to King Arthur were feminine. Needless to say, I became acquainted with the gist of his (her?) legend.

  
When you emerged from the circle, donning silver armor and a sword with the sun in its hilt, I learned more about King Arthur more than I intended to. I did not have the heart to tell you that I cared very little about the King of Knights, especially since you smiled so brightly when speaking of him. What I did care about was your legend, which you spoke of sparingly if at all.

  
I had no trouble depending on you in battles. As a Knight who served under a famous King, your skills were superb and plenty of my other Servants felt quite inferior. You did not gloat, but you carried yourself with confidence, reflecting the King you had served faithfully in life. It made me wonder, was I seeing you, or King Arthur?

  
As someone who fought against a number of creatures fueled by magic, danger was no longer a stranger to me. I had come close to death many times, saved only by the loyalty of my Servants. But back then, as I lay pinned to the ground by a spear that skewered my shoulder and a malevolent enemy leering over me with a dagger in his hand, I could not remember a time when I had been so close to dying.

The pain distracted me from the burning fire in your eyes that I mistook for fury, but when I had healed and recalled your expression, I realized it had been regret.

  
You fussed over me needlessly; my contract with Mash kept me from being grievously injured and you knew that, but you did so anyway.

  
"I bet King Arthur never got injured on account of you being such a mother hen," I had jokingly said but the darkening of your expression was like a sunset, dreary and gray.

  
The Knight of Failures, you mentioned with a bitter smile, that was what I had been known as.

  
Morgan Le Fay's plot to shake Knights were all over the place but they were successful. You told me the story of the Green Knight and the silk Belt of Bertilak, you told me of Lancelot and how your hatred for him drove you to chase him. And that had been how you betrayed King Arthur. Above anything else, you were afraid of being a failure. You were afraid of failling me who had just as much weight on my shoulders as King Arthur did.

  
I could not alleviate your insecurity as I was filled with it as well. And there, sitting beside you and basking in the warmth of the sun that emanated from you, I felt hurt, moreso than when I had been wounded by an enemy spear, because there was nothing I could do to help as your Master. Words were empty and ineffective; I knew from experience.

  
But for what its worth, I will not be a King Arthur whose throne and crown you protected. I will not walk ahead of you in my quest to restore Humanity. I will not allow you to be alone in your failures and I will not allow that failure to be the end.

  
When I placed my hand, so small and so insignificant on your shoulder, you smiled, small and fragile, but a smile nonetheless and the sun peeked to the horizon, dispelling the darkness of night and promising a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought Gawain's bond lines were a bit distant. I might be the only one, but I was quite disatisfied with it.
> 
> I heard he was quite protective of his Master in Extella so I pegged him as the kind of Servant written above.
> 
> Also I posted this on my Tumblr... :3
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it!


	6. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished Camelot a while ago, so this is to commemorate.

I staggered, overcome with vertigo as I took my surroundings in. The familar chrome backdrop of Chaldea eased my heart, dispelling all fears of harsh and gritty desserts and pure white walls. An arm shot to steady me and I, assuming it was Mash, held on for dear life.

  
Traversing through the Camelot Singularity had been exhausting. The opposing Kings clearly tested my mettle and many truths rained down on me like arrows. It was hard to take in at once, but I had decided to let it be tomorrow's problem. I wanted to sleep dreamlessly and spend a few blissful hours ignorant. I pressed my head against soft cotton as opposed to hard armor. Looking up, my eyes met with Dr. Henry Jekyll's kind green ones.

  
Ah yes. As a man of many fields, he was a tremendous help to Chaldea. He was smart enough to understand how the systems worked even though he was not a magus himself. Being a Servant came as a convenience as he was more than capable of keeping an eye on the systems far longer than Dr. Roman could. I had intended on bringing him along to Camelot with me, but he had insisted on staying. Henry had wanted to be useful even without using Edward's combat capabilities, an endeavor I supported. As his Master, I was glad he was stepping forward with plans of his own.

  
"Sorry Henry," I muttered, staying in his arms more out of necessity than desire. I was tired and could hardly trust my knees to keep me standing.

  
"Senpai, you should go to your room and rest," came Mash's kind voice. She sounded invigorated; refreshed. I almost envied her, but then I remembered how Camelot was basically home to her Servant side. "Shall I escort you?"

  
"No," I declined politely. She meant well, but she went through everything I did during the Singularity and the last thing I wanted for now was to hear anything related to Camelot or the Lion King, or the Knights of the Round, or the Pharaohs and their pet sphinxes, or the mountain people and the Hassans. I knew Mash was just concerned, but she would ask questions and I did not want to be asked or reminded.

My own mind could paint me a vivid picture and any more encouragement was the last thing I wanted. "I think I can manage."

  
Skeptically, Mash pursed her lips but before she could argue, Henry gently cut in: "Don't worry, Mash. I'll make sure she gets to her room safely."

  
"Oh, Dr. Jekyll," I almost winced. His last name always reminded me of his legend and knowing that people used it because they did not know him as I did made me feel uneasy sometimes. To me he was Henry, the man given a chance to remold his shell instead of grow out of it. I know it is juvenile, but it felt to me like an underestimation of his efforts to be better. But again, Mash meant well and besides, she did not share the bond I shared with Henry. "Thank you. Well then, please take care of senpai. I will be retiring to my room as well."

  
I smelled smoke and cherry blossoms and inwardly groaned. Most of the time, Kiyohime was tolerable, even after prolonged periods of separation. She had found her calling in the kitchen, preparing edible food for the staff because I had told her once that the better fed the staff was, the easier they would work and in turn, I would have an easier time at a given Singularity or Rayshift. She took her duties as cook alongside Her Majesty Boudica to heart, believing it was the best way for her to serve me. It was easy to brush her off on good days, but today was hardly a good day and I could barely summon the strength to pull away from Henry's arms, let alone fend her off.

  
"My, my Master. You look exhausted. I should take you to your room and watch over you sleep?"

  
Please don't.

  
She smiled, truly believing that she was helping me and I appreciated it. "I would fight off any unpleasant dream for you, Master."

  
"Perhaps you should allow the Master to sleep alone," Henry spoke, though his tone was not what it usually was. Edward was talking, but in the other person's speech pattern. "I am well aware that you wish to spend time with her like everyone else, but as you can see, she is exhausted and needs to rest."

  
Kiyohime frowned and flames crackled from her fingertips. Mash tensed and the entire room stilled as the Berserker prepared to unleash her fury. "Get out of my way, Assassin," she growled and I felt Henry's grip tighten on me. "I will be the one to take care of Master."

  
The shift was almost imperceptible, but Henry's gentle green eyes turned red and his gaze became venomous. Mash was quick to place her shield between Henry and Kiyohime and I felt tears pricking the corner of my eyes. I was tired. I just wanted to sleep and this uncertain tension felt quite like wandering the dessert and storming Camelot. It was tempting to curl into a ball and just cry.

  
"Alright, alright," I heard a light-hearted motherly voice intervene, effectively cutting through the tension. I released a breath I did not realize I was holding. "You escaped from kitchen duties, young lady. That wasn't nice of you."

  
"But Your Majesty," Kiyohime whined. "Master is back."

  
Boudica nodded, patting the Berserker's long snow-white hair. "Yes, yes. And she'll still be here tomorrow. I know you miss her, but let her rest hm? Besides, the bread you're making in the oven won't let itself out. If it gets burnt like the last time, I'm sure a certain someone would never forgive you."

  
The shift in Kiyohime's mood was so abrupt, it was almost comical. I would have laughed if I had not been so close to tears a while ago. "Ahhh... The dreaded Saint of the Waterside and her Fists. I shall return immediately, Your Highness." To me she said, "Master, please rest well. I have lots to feed you when you're better."

  
To ensure that she would leave, Boudica started pushing the Berserker to the direction of the kitchen. She smiled kindly at me, Henry and Mash, her eyes warm and homely. I could only smile in return. It was followed by a brief whirlwind of good-nights and see-you-tomorrows before Henry lifted me into his arms and made his way to my room. We came across Sanson and Mata Hari as we walked and they gave brief greetings before resuming their way.

  
My room smelled nostalgic and I could not help but sigh as I inhaled a lungful and exhaled. Henry placed me on the bed and strode purposefully towards my cabinet. I flattened my palms on the familiar blanket. It smelled of fabric soap, signifying that it had been freshly laundered. The hamper at the foot of my bed was empty; someone must have washed my clothes while I was gone. It was those small things that made tears slide down my cheeks as the gravity of the situation as well as my exhaustion and the situation earlier fell on me like an unbearable weight.

  
"Master?" Henry walked back, holding a pile of clothes. Knowing that he rummaged through my dresser to retrieve my clothes only dimly embarrassed me.

  
"Sorry Henry... I just.. "

  
His hands enveloped mine, cradling them like they were something precious. I hated it when he treated me like this: like I would break anytime soon, like he was afraid of hurting me. Angrily, I raised my head, ready to snap at him, exhausted as I was.

  
A gentle smile was on his face and everything that surfaced onto my tongue dissipated, like smoke unfurling in the air. I wished he would stop looking at me like that; the lump in my throat became heavier and the tears would not stop threatening to fall. "H-Henry..."

  
"Welcome home, Master. We're glad you're back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't manage to bring Jekyll against Artoria, but he did well against the Enforcement Knights.
> 
> This is how my Chaldea would look like... Boudica as main mama cause I don't have Emiya. Also, EVERYONE is afraid of Martha. :3
> 
> I also have another headcannon, care to spot it? :3 You get cookies if you guess it right. :)
> 
> Cross-posted from my Tumblr err... Word Vomit it's called... XD


	7. Gate of Babylon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Sorry. Work took up a lot of my time and I recently started listening to Kpop again... XD Anyhow, enjoy! :)
> 
> I might post another before February ends just for the Valentine's thing... XD

Flabbergasted was not a word that I often got to use, but it was a word that adequately described the day you emerged from the summoning circle. What had been described in the records was an arrogant, haughty and disagreeable man clad in gold but what I had gotten was a polite rosy-cheeked youth. The use of the word was warranted, I figured.

  
You shared a name with the King of Heroes but carried yourself differently. You were not above having fun and frequently engaged in pranks with Alexander. Andersen was the usual subject of your antics, not that Caster's scathing remarks did amything to dampen your moods; if anything it excited you more.

  
You overtly flirted with Mash and other female Servants; it was equal parts disturbing and fascinating given your young form. The motive behind your honeyed words varied between Servants. For Mash, it was self-awareness, for Martha it was to let her true nature slip, for Mata Hari it was for her smile, for Euryale and Stheno it was thinly veiled threats (more for the latter since the former hardly gave you the time of the day) and the list went on.

  
The relationship between you and the version of the King of Heroes that had failed to achieve immortality was cordial, yet still strained. It was almost like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not stay in the same room as the other and keep the talking to a minimal. I could not begin to imagine what Chaldea would be like if the Archer King of Heroes came to answer my summons.

  
In battle, you were just as capable as your older selves. How you primarily used Enkidu in battle was a testament to your mentality. Perhaps you were sentimental; having the chains in battle was to honor the memory of your dearest and closest friend. Maybe you held to your friend's strength and knew you could rely on him so you did. Or maybe you were hiding some form of arrogance: the treasures you owned were too excessive for my quest of restoring Humanity; Enkidu was enough. Whichever the case, you proved yourself just as capable as your older selves; the charm you exuded was simply a bonus that we all enjoyed.

  
For all your mischief, your close proximity, your charming antics and your behaviors, I could see your eyes flash with sadness and remorse. As your Master, I felt that it was my responsibility to know why, but at the same time, I was afraid to. You qualified as a retainer for the title Grand Caster because of your Clairvoyance and the possibility that you had already seen the results of all this frightened me. I was barely able to pull myself together whenever I returned from a Rayshift; I don't know if I will ever be able to handle the outcome of trying to restore Humanity even if it was a good one.

  
Often you would compare your time at Chaldea as a dream: sweet, brief and finite. Even with the bleakness of being the last Master and all that came with it, we were happy. Just as you held off the unpleasant memories of being a tyrant with your actions and behaviors, I held off the despairing thoughts.

  
"If this is a dream, would you still be there when it's over?" I asked, more afraid to lose what happiness I felt through these despairing times than anything else.

  
You had smiled, all bright eyes, upturned lips, rosy cheeks and scolded me for being silly. A king may leave his retainers, but a friend will stay until the end.


End file.
